


Marcia Marcia Marcia

by lolahazed



Category: Split (2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-06 12:50:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10335101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lolahazed/pseuds/lolahazed
Summary: Marcia's experiences in her "cell", alone and in the company of others.





	1. Made of This

Marcia knelt on the cold cement floor of the small closet-like room he had put her in. Her knees stung but it felt like idle discomfort compared to the agonizing anxiety-induced pain she felt in the pit of her stomach. She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed her hands up and down her arms in an attempt to subdue her uncontrollable shivering. Unable to suppress it any longer, Marcia’s eyes welled with tears and she finally let out a full, shuddering sob, something she had tirelessly fought against since the beginning of this ordeal. Marcia was strong. She didn't want to appear weak in front of the man and she feared making the situation worse by breaking down in front of Casey and Claire, but she could no longer hold back the burning she felt in her throat and she had no reason to hide it. She was alone. 

Her legs gave out and Marcia slumped onto her bottom, the sheer fabric of her underwear providing no comfort against the icy floor. Marcia’s thoughts turned to Claire, her best friend, and she wondered if she was somewhere like this, or if she was even alive. She thought of Casey, poor strange Casey, who was alone with him now. She put her head in her hands and rocked back and forth as feelings washed over her in crashing waves of realization.

It wasn’t long before her shivering felt unbearable. Marcia raised her head out of her tear soaked palms and looked toward the tiled sky. Her back leaned against the frame of shelves that towered above her from floor to ceiling and surrounded her on all sides. She noted the shelves were littered with unmarked boxes, random tools and supplies and she resigned to looking through the shelves for something, anything, she could fashion into clothes or a blanket. She felt emotionally and physically exhausted and her body begged for sleep, but she knew that would be impossible in her current state. 

Unsteadily, Marcia got to her feet and maneuvered around the room slowly, mindfully sorting through the junk lining the shelves. A few things caught her attention, a hoard of bleach, which would be useful if she wanted to kill herself, and a heavy looking wrench, which she noted, would be perfect to bash his fucking head in if she saw him again. Eventually, she could see what she thought was some sort of blanket a few shelf lengths out of reach. Expending the rest of her dwindling energy and using the shelves like a ladder, Marcia pulled herself up to the shelf in question and, straining, yanked the prized cloth down to the ground. 

She hopped eagerly down to the unforgiving floor and her ankles stung on impact. Kneeling to the ground, she spread out and inspected the fabric. It was a dirty-looking, heavy felt fabric in a charming shade of brown that had clearly been forgotten about. Despite the lacklustre reward, Marcia felt some sense of relief and she let out a small, incredulous, laugh in that she felt something akin to pride at climbing to reach a shitty old blanket.  
Marcia brushed off some of the dirt and hair that clung to the worn fabric before slowly lowering herself on top of it and folding it over her shivering body. She made note of the blanket’s aroma as she cocooned herself in, and as she closed her tired eyes, sore from tears, she silently begged whoever was listening for comfort and respite. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------  
Marcia opened her eyes, and bolted straight up right. The door was open. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The heavy metal door was wide open and fluorescent light from the outside streamed in. She had no idea how long she had been asleep, but she couldn’t remember waking up to any noise. Slowly, Marcia got to her feet as her eyes guardedly darted around the small room. Kicking the blanket to the side, she made her way toward the door. Reaching the threshold, Marcia tentatively peered out into the hallway. Her heart stopped when she saw Claire at the end of the hall, carefully tiptoeing away from her. 

“Claire!” Marcia called to her in a hushed, but urgent, voice. 

Claire turned and put a finger to her lips as a gesture of silence and motioned for Marcia to follow her down the hallway before again turning away. Marcia nearly sprinted toward her, happy tears brimming in her eyes and her heart swollen with hope. Marcia had almost caught up when Claire slipped through the open door of the living room area. Marcia rounded the corner and stepped silently into the room, joining her. Claire stood a few feet in before her, facing away and unnervingly still. Marcia walked toward her and touched her shoulder.

“Claire, where is Casey?” 

Claire began to turn toward Marcia but as she turned, she appeared to transform before her eyes. Marcia’s heart sank and she trembled as she looked not into the familiar comforting face of Claire, but into that of the man who had done this to them. Marcia's watery eyes met his piercing blue gaze and she felt unease when she realized she didn't know which version of him she was seeing. This man looked different than the woman, and the child, and even the stern one. Instead he looked so sad and defeated and tired and he regarded her in such a way that she thought he was asking _her _for help. Marcia felt immense confusion and fear.__

“What’s happening? Where’s Claire? Where’s Casey?” Marcia’s voice was so faint it was nearly inaudible and she choked on her sobs.

She took several steps backward, but as she moved away he seemed to contort and transform into something terrifying, something not human, something animal. His limbs extended and he seemed to grow, his veins pulsed beneath his discoloured skin and he bared blood-covered teeth. Marcia tried to run but she felt as if she were moving in slow motion and although she couldn’t see the beast, she could feel him upon her, slithering around her and tearing her down. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------  
Marcia awoke to the sound of her own screams ringing in her ears and the jingling of keys unlocking the closet door.


	2. Breezeblocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcia has a little fight in her.

Marcia scooted backwards further away from the door, concealing herself, slightly, behind a wall of shelves. Her heart beat wildly against her chest and she wiped away the sweat that beaded on her forehead. The dulled sound of metal keys clinking just outside the room continued until finally, the doorknob turned, the door pushed open and in walked the star of her nightmares.  


Marcia couldn’t bring herself to stand and instead hugged her knees to her chest and pulled the blanket up over her bare legs. She trembled slightly and watched with wide, unblinking eyes, as he moved closer to her. Her eyes fell on the tray of food he was carrying and Marcia’s stomach rumbled noisily. She hadn’t eaten since yesterday, before the incident in the kitchen.  


Marcia’s attention drifted back to the man. She quickly, and perhaps to her relief, recognized which personality she was seeing. He was dressed in the identifiable grey button up shirt and dark framed glasses and he maneuvered with stiffness and order. This was the germaphobe, who she guessed had some degree of obsessive-compulsive disorder. This was the one who tried to make her “dance” with him.  


Marcia’s eyes fell on his face and his steely gaze met hers, sending a chill through her and making the hair on her arms stand on end. She watched as he slowly lowered his gaze to appraise her position on the floor and noticed that his façade appeared pained. He suddenly turned away from her and harshly dropped the plastic tray onto one of the shelves, making Marcia jump. She regarded his hands, clenching and unclenching repeatedly. Finally, he turned back toward Marcia and closing his eyes, ran a hand over his scalp in what Marcia could detect was annoyance or frustration, or both. Marcia’s throat felt dry and she tugged the blanket closer instinctively. She wondered if this was because of what she had done with the chair in the kitchen yesterday, or if she had somehow done something else to piss him off in the few seconds he had been in the room.  


He let out a deep breath through flared nostrils, and with his eyes still closed, motioned to the blanket covering Marcia’s vulnerable lower half. 

“Where did you get that?” His voice was dripping with bitterness. 

Marcia looked nervously down at the blanket draped over her lap, “It was on one of the shelves. I’m sorry I was just really cold and I-“

“Give it to me.”

He held out his hand but kept his head turned away, ostensibly in disgust. Marcia shook as she got to her feet and plucked the blanket off of the ground. With one hand she covered her nearly exposed lower half, and with the other she handed him the ragged cloth.

He didn’t say a word, but grabbed the blanket from her hand and carried it out of the room. Marcia stood silently, starring at the open door. Mere seconds passed before he returned. Marcia stood up as straight as she could as he walked toward her, much closer than he had been before. Again, he looked her up and down and Marcia glanced nervously around the room, trying to focus on anything else. 

“Why did you have to do that?” He motioned toward her and shook his head in what Marcia could see was genuine distress. 

She looked down at herself and realized her remaining clothes were covered in dirt from the blanket. Her heart sank when she realized what was coming next, and despite her silent prayers, he said the words she was dreading.

“Please, take all of your clothes off. You’re covered in filth.”

She let out a shuddering breath, “Please, please don’t make me.”

“Do it yourself now or I’ll do it for you.”

Marcia hesitated, shifting from side to side, her feet freezing on the cold cement floor, “But the women said-“

“I know what Patricia said.”

“Please...I can’t.” She pleaded. 

He looked up at the ceiling and clenching his fists, let out a frustrated growl. Marcia could see his internal struggle played out through his external reactions. When she still didn’t follow his orders, he erupted.

“DO IT NOW!” He bellowed at her. 

Marcia felt his booming voice reverberate through her body. She felt sick to her stomach and her legs felt like Jell-O beneath her. Defeated, she slowly reached for the hem of her soiled crop top and began peeling it up and over her neck and shoulders. She whimpered softly, unable to hold in her discomfort. 

He let out a heavy breath as he watched her and Marcia tried not to look at him as she continued to strip down. As she stood meekly before him in only her bra and underwear, she looked him in the eyes and silently pled him to let her stop. Instead, he maintained an unwavering gaze.

“All of it.”

Marcia bent over to give herself some concealment as she began to pull at the waistband of her underwear. She glanced to her right and noticed the heavy wrench she made note of before. Suddenly she felt adrenaline surging through her veins and her heart began pounding so heavily she felt her entire body shake in sync with her hammering heartbeats. Marcia doubted what she could do against a man of his stature, but she couldn’t resign herself to the fate she knew he had planned. 

Thinking quickly, Marcia dropped to her knees, clutching her stomach and retched violently. 

“What’s wrong with you?” The tone of his voice failed to hide his repulsion. 

“I don’t feel well,” She said between dramatic heaves as drops of saliva seeped from her panting mouth and pooled on the floor. 

He hesitated before moving closer to her, leaning down to help her up. His fingertips had barely grazed her shoulder when Marcia sprang into action. She dove forward, her hand clasping desperately around the metal tool. In one swift motion, she swung full throttle toward his head, but he was fast, faster than her, and he grabbed her wrist and twisted it painfully. Marcia shrieked in anguish and clawed at his grip with her other hand, but it was useless. He continued to bend her wrist until she could no longer maintain a hold on the wrench and it plummeted to the floor in a clatter. The man grabbed Marcia by the upper arms and threw her down against the ground, her skull making harsh contact with the solid concrete. 

Spots of light and dark dotted Marcia’s vision and her head throbbed ferociously. She blinked back hot tears and watched from her position on the floor as the man, wrench in hand, paced back and forth in the small room like a caged animal. Marcia tried to sit up but her head spun and she was overcome by nausea. Rolling onto her side, she watched through blurred vision as he stopped pacing and glanced over at her before leaving the room and aggressively slamming the door behind him.

Marcia listened to the dulled sound of keys jingling as he locked her in and she was once again left alone on the floor of her cold and unforgiving cell.


End file.
